ON A scale of vanilla to dangling from the ceiling by your nipple rings, most Sexhibition attendees fell closer to the latter end of the scale.
I still have a red paddle print on my right cheek...
As debut events go, Manchester’s debut Sexhibition convention was holding little back; breasts were out (some of the biggest I’ve ever seen), dongs were swinging (some of the biggest I’ve ever seen) and gimp masks were in abundance (some of the scariest I’ve ever seen) - see our Best Dressed Gallery
The ‘biggest erotic event of the year’ was an uninhibited, sweaty, latex-dressed celebration of sex - mostly the fetish-kind of loving.
Sexhibition’s team had 28000 sq ft to play with at Trafford Event City - an expo centre more used to hosting caravan and wedding shows than porn stars and vibrating wangs - and made the most of the space.
For three days, organisers went all guns blazing with 1000 watt bulbs illuminated ‘SEXHIBITION’ over an enormous erotic catwalk; hundreds of exhibitors waving sex toys and kinky apparel at gagging guests; alongside some of the world’s most prolific porn stars – putting faces to some more famed body parts (rumour has it Ben Dover of Ben Dover's English Asscapades was insitu).
Sexhibition Over a period of twelve hours, it became clear I was an innocent lamb amongst sadists. I'd be forced into a excruciating iron corset (iron? Why iron?), my arse walloped by a man carrying a giant paddle (completely unsolicited, by the way), while later I'd witness a grinning exhibitor tazing a screaming man with an electrode. I still have a red paddle print on my right cheek, in case you were wondering.
Kinky as it certainly was, Sexhibition wasn't an entirely seedy affair.
Sure, it teetered unsteadily over the decency line (I was propositioned by the BBC, the ‘big black c*ck’ swingers night) but the exploration of sex and fantasy didn’t actually involve any outright sex – at least from where I was looking.
Sexhibition’s creator and red-haired fox, Cheryl Smith, had promised an event that was 'wholesome' for its kind, with the first half of the day focused on retail, fashion shows and art performances. They kept the more XXX stuff, I'm told, hidden away in a seperate room.
Post-watershed, the 'After Dark' party included a 'decadent' five-course meal, champagne, burlesque and half-naked fire eaters. Fun, sexy, strange at times, but not explicit.
I did take a quick look inside the smutty section, of course. After bypassing a man pretending to masturbate with a dildo and silly-string, I’d meet an Iranian pornographic author whose titles had been banned in the UK. She’d tell me a story of moving to England, falling in love with the rock and roll scene, before further falling into writing erotica and stirring up a heap of controversy in her homeland. It’s riveting stuff.
Sukki SingporaI'd also meet Sukki Singapora, Sexhibition's headline star and Singapore's leading burlesque artist. Blue-haired Singapora had been pivotal in getting burlesque legalised in Singapore and was also invited to Buckingham Palace for tea - a first for any burlesque artist. After watching her splash around in a giant champagne glass, we talked feminism and body confidence.
"Burlesque is a dynamic art form, that's what struck me about it," said Singapora. "It's definitely feminist, featuring strong female role models. Before I found Burlesque I lacked in self-esteem, after four years doing this I've never felt more body confident."
Confidence, sexual-positivity and liberation was the intended theme at Sexhibition. The event suggested - within reason - there's no shame in exploring your sexual fantasies. Gender and sexuality became an after-thought.
But what if your idea of sexy is popping on some cool jazz, lighting candles and rolling around in nice sheets? Does a sex event always have to focus on whips, chains and latex body suits (seriously, who decided latex was sexy)? While there was enough range to tickle everyone's fancy, I could imagine the more meek amongst us being intimidated by an event like this. Here you're often confronted by someone else's fantasy, one that could be your idea of a nightmare.
Often the curious costumes, swinging nipple tassels and peculiar penis apparel veered towards the comical, rather than sexy. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.
As a friend remarked, Sexhibition showcased the 'complexities of humanity', the older you get the more you realise everyone can surrender to a bit of kink. A woman in her late 60s, reminiscent of homemaker and beloved sitcom character, Betty White, came dressed in nothing but a thong and body-harness. Here she felt free. Meanwhile, me, a woman in her twenties, ran away from a man with a giant penis in skin-tight leggings.
Sexhibition could be as sexy as you made it. Did it turn me on? Not particularly. But I left with lasting memories, a more open mind and business cards from 'latex artists' in my bra.
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(Photo credits Chris Keller-Jackson and L'Oréal Blackett)
